Straight, On, Through
by Idonquixote
Summary: Post-STID. "Captain, I find it inconsistent with the events insofar for you to term yourself a 'screw-up.' According to your definition, if anyone is the 'screw-up,' it should logically be me." In light of recent disasters, Jim feels that he's failed. Unwilling to see his captain this dejected, Spock shares some less than glorious personal details with him.


**First time writing for this fandom- hope it's satisfactory.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, any of it.**

* * *

Jim was tired. He could feel his own fatigue, a sensation that never got to him this heavily before. He was so fucking tired. But he shouldn't be. Supposedly, he had a good dose of genetic magic blood in his veins, side effects be damned, and it was only through the sheer willpower of his- no, the Enterprise's crew, that he wasn't still on that bed, fading and fading and busy being dead.

He paused at the curb, tilting his head so he could get a better view of the soaring buildings around him. There used to be more._ He_ made sure a good portion of the area disappeared, and with it, countless more people. People that Jim didn't even know. Maybe there was a man in one of them, just an average guy, someone with a bright smile and a loving wife, who wouldn't come home because a maniac just didn't give a damn, and there'd be a little boy who would never see his daddy again.

All because of Captain Kirk.

He halfheartedly clenched his fists. If he had been smarter. There had to have been some way- if he had never _listened_ to that maniac in the first place, if he had waited to gain the upper hand on the augment, if he had been closer to Pike at the meeting, if he had figured things out earlier, if he had managed to give some sort of coherent order when he was in that chamber instead of whatever sappy thing he was his trying to say-

How many crew members would still be alive? How many less condolences would he need to give? How many funerals postponed? How much of San Francisco would still be around?

The sky was disgustingly blue, he noted. Funny. He always loved the sun, bright clear skies, reminded him of the wheat fields in Riverside. Now it was just glaring down at him, telling him that he wasn't cut out to be under it. Bones should have kept that blood for someone else, for a better captain.

He thought of Bones, so grumpy and bitter, looking at him like he was the best Christmas present ever, holding back tears in those eyes, suddenly the warmest, brightest things Jim had ever seen. He thought of Uhura, professional and composed, laughing and crying, looking like a little girl whose daddy just returned from war. He thought of Spock, his mouth twitching, those detached eyes shimmering, coming too close to crying for comfort, like Jim had somehow returned the planet Vulcan to him.

And Chekov's shining grin, the boy's shameless tears, Sulu's tugging smile, eyes radiating a warmth Jim just wasn't used to, and Scotty looking like him like he was some sort of long lost son. They all looked at him like that, with some sort of relief, devotion, adoration, sheer joy- everyone, even the newest members, of that ship.

_Damn you all. Damn it all. Just d-_

"Captain."

Jim turned out of instinct, something he had developed over the past year. He blinked to make sure he was seeing right. His first officer was standing by him (when the hell did he sneak up?), in Starfleet's grey uniform, looking way too prim and proper for someone off duty.

"Huh?"

"I apologize for startling you." He so didn't mean it.

Jim nodded. "It's fine. What's up?"

"You seemed rather out of sorts. You have a tendency to act on your brashness and to disregard all rational thought, but I do not believe that was the case ten minutes and forty seven seconds ago."

Jim cracked a smile at that. "So you flagged me down to insult?"

"That is not my intention. I am merely pointing out to you that an air car came extremely close to ending your life prematurely while you were crossing the street."

Wait. What?

"I didn't see any car."

"I assure you, captain. There was a car, traveling at a speed well within the limit, otherwise there would be a 99.92 percent chance we would not be having this conversation."

Jim scanned the Vulcan. Spock wouldn't lie, well, to him, anyway. Besides, if this was a lie, it'd be awfully stupid- illogical. So that meant there was a car, great, he was so out of tune that he hadn't even seen it.

"I really didn't see it. Well, I'm fine so I guess it doesn't matter."

Spock gave him that 'are you kidding me?' look without actually changing expressions. Jim sighed.

"Okay, okay, maybe it does- but I don't know. I just want to be alone now-"

"You are not yourself as of late. I wish to know why."

"Hey, who's the captain around here?"

"We are off duty."

Sometimes Jim really wanted to punch his friend in the face. This was one of those times. I don't want to talk about it meant I don't want to talk about it. Apparently Vulcans were bad at reading signs like that. He caught a glimpse of them in a building's glass pane.

Spock looked more or less the same. But Jim-

_Not yourself was right_. He looked like someone who just woke up from bed after a bad hangover, the collar of his jacket was upturned, his shirt had a variety of stains he hadn't noticed before, he was slouching- he hadn't slouched in forever. The normally vibrant blue eyes looked like vacant pools, the arrogant jut in his chin was gone, the rebel's face wasn't there anymore. He had no idea who he was looking at. It was James T. Kirk but just not there.

Spock put a hand to his arm, steadying Jim as he swayed. He was a bit dizzy.

"Are you feeling ill?"

"What are you, Bones now?" He shut his eyes, willing the spots away, and opened them again. All better. "Let's- let's sit down over there."

Luckily for them, there was an unoccupied bench to rest on. Just another bout of dumb luck for Jim, as always. He slumped in his seat, chin pressing against his chest, while Spock took his place beside him, straight as a statue.

"It appears that you are not sufficiently resting, captain. Or perhaps it is a dietary problem-"

"Okay, okay, don't tell Bones- I've been having trouble with a lot of that stuff, sleep, eating, you name it-"

"Urinary dysfunction?"

He couldn't hold back another laugh. Sometimes the Vulcan said the stupidest shit.

"I fail to see the humor."

"No- no, sorry, no I don't have_ that_ problem."

Spock said nothing and they sat in silence for a good amount of time. One of them had to talk. Jim sighed again- Spock wouldn't leave until he told him what was wrong, stubborn asshole.

"I don't deserve it, Spock."

"..."

"The way you all look at me, like I'm the best fucking captain there is, the best person out there- it's not true. Do you know how many people died because of Kh-" his voice caught.

Even the name made him choke. He was pathetic.

"I do," the Vulcan said.

"I was _in charge_. What would Pike do? What would my father do? What would _you_ do? I just kept asking myself this- I came up with nothing but this: you would've all done better than me."

Jim sat up, rubbing at his chin. "I could have warned them earlier- I don't know- I could have saved Pike. I could have saved all these people, but I didn't. I'm just some idiot kid who got his ass handed to him. None of you should have mourned me- what you all did to save my life, you shouldn't have. I'm not worth it."

He looked up the sky, still blue and tinged with mocking clouds. "It shouldn't be me sitting here, breathing, living, looking at the sky. Screw that. It should be someone else, someone better than me, who just wasn't as fucking lucky- I'm not _good_, Spock, not a good man, not a good captain, not really good at anything. Just one mistake after another. I'm a screw-up, just a screw-up. You get it now?"

It felt, not good, but relieving to confess that. Yeah, that was it. He didn't care for the response. He wasn't expecting one. He half wondered if the Vulcan would stand up, pat his pants, agree to what he said, and walk away.

"I understand."

It hurt more than he cared to admit, but Jim was glad he got it.

"Captain, I find it inconsistent with the events insofar for you to term yourself a 'screw-up.' According to your definition, if anyone is the 'screw-up,' it should logically be me."

_What?_

Surprised, Jim turned toward his XO, trying to turn his head around the horrible illogicality of that statement. It made no sense, especially from this man. He made sure to say that out loud.

"What crack have you been smoking?"

"Vulcans do not smoke."

"I'm serious, Spock. What the hell- how the hell are _you_ the screw-up here?"

"You defined a 'screw-up' as someone who has failed at a number of personal and professional undertakings on a repeated basis."

"Yeah, but-"

"I was nearly expelled during my fifth year of the Vulcan equivalent of primary school."

"That's nothing like my-"

"Forgive me for cutting you off, captain. But I feel the need to complete my statements in regards to my past failures."

Jim rolled his eyes. This would be interesting. "Alright, you go first, then."

"Vulcan children are required to undertake a rite of passage when they are seven years of age. I sought to undergo mine early, foolishly leaving my home without my parents' knowledge. I was attacked by a predator of my homeworld, and would not be here today if not for the saving grace of our pet Sehlat."

"The teddy bear Bones was yapping about?"

"Yes. Granted, with fangs and biological life. But that is a digression. I-Chaya was mortally wounded while trying to save my life. He was as much a part of my father's household as I was- he died because of me, a mistake on my part."

_So a pet died because of you but over fifty people because of me? How is this even fucking comparable?_

"I did succeed in the rite eventually, but my disastrous first attempt was still remembered. In my fifth year of schooling, a group of upperclassmen curious of my human heritage, goaded me into an emotional response. I failed to keep my emotions in check and physically assaulted them. We were separated by a professor but my father barely managed to contain his disappointment when I was sent home. This was the first of many incidents."

"And this warranted expulsion? You ever been to Terran school?"

"First of many, captain. My tormentors persisted and I accepted their bait each time. I was unable to contain my rage. In fact, I would intentionally seek out these fights. I was grossly outnumbered each time and irrational in my attacks. I lost seventy seven percent of these altercations. At times I would goad my peers into attacking me so I could take pleasure in fighting them. I cut many of my classes to partake in fights with those in the upper class levels."

Jim stared in disbelief. It was a hard picture to put together- this sounded like a kid who should be in juvie, not Spock of all people. Even as a child, Jim never went out of his way to pick fights; either the fights found him or he sassed them. Either way, he always won.

"My instructors and those in charge of my institution were displeased at this behavior. The issue was brought before my father- I was deemed an abnormality and drastic action was demanded on my father's part. If he chose to do nothing to end this behavior, they would have no choice but to remove me from the establishment. He forced me through a rigorous set of exercises in mental control and meditation."

"It worked?"

"For the most part."

There was some hesitation there.

"I was saved from expulsion by my father's intervention and many trying practices. In our upper years of schooling, an emotional aptitude test is recommended for the students. As the son of Sarek, refusal was out of the question. I scored the lowest among my peers for two consecutive terms. I managed to pass with a mediocre grade by the third term."

Now Jim wasn't sure how to react. Scoring low and Spock didn't belong in the same sentence unless he was delivering the low score.

"My behavior was a point of contention in my family as well. My mother was quick to show affection and my father was quick to show apathy, if not disappointment. I yearned to return my mother's feelings, but it would go against everything my father worked for. I yearned to be the son my father craved, but it would mean distancing myself from what my mother tried so hard to make me embrace. I sought to please them both, but failed on all accounts. I never got the chance to tell my mother I loved her and I doubt I will ever be able to hold a proper conversation with my father again."

Spock continued.

"It takes the average Vulcan adolescent three years to fully master mental shields. It took me seven. My performance in school was deemed impressive by the Vulcan Science Academy through no feat of ingenuity. I studied when others meditated, meditated when they slept, trained when they ate- I calculated that in order to keep up with my peers, I had to put in 43.789 percent more effort. In order to exceed them, I had to put in 80.548 percent more effort. I exceeded not because I was better, but because I was worse."

His eyes met Jim's, surprisingly anxious. "Captain, you are now the only one who knows this."

"Listen, I'm honored, but I don't see how this is helping-"

"You passed the Kobayashi Maru, the only one to do so, and while I still frown on your method of doing so, you succeeded nonetheless. I had input in its design, but I never took it- it was designed so that failure was the only option- it was designed so that if I were to take it, I would fail. But you were an anomaly."

"Is this a compliment?" Jim smiled again, force of habit. He still wasn't convinced that Spock being a failure proved that Kirk was a success.

"In Starfleet, I was told that you spent the minimum amount of time studying, that your verbal tendencies landed you on the wrong side of many professors, that you refused to work under anyone else no matter the assignment, and were caught breaking basic protocol at least two times. And yet you were one of the academy's top cadets. Your professors were unable to give you low assessments and even your peers grudgingly admitted to your excellent performance."

"..."

"It is not luck, captain. It is not luck that you ascended the ranks faster than anyone in Starfleet history and went from being a cadet to my superior in less than a day's time. You are, simply put, brilliant."

"_Come on_-"

"I chose to abide by the rules even when I disagreed, I spent the maximum amount of time studying during my time at Starfleet, I never took command of a group assignment unless told to do so- I ended up applying the same strategy I used on Vulcan, with the notion of failure my sole motivation."

The Vulcan flinched slightly. "And my greatest failure happened with the Narada incident. Even in the future, with year upon year of experience, I could not prevent the destruction of Romulus._ I_ was the cause of Vulcan's destruction, of the Kelvin's fall."

Jim wanted to break his nose for saying that. It was true, technically, but what did it prove? This blame was illogical. "There was nothing you could do."

"And there is nothing you could have done to prevent recent events."

"Bullshit!"

"Regardless, you had less experience than all of us. You were able to use 30 percent effort to accomplish what I could with 92. If Captain Pike was correct, you managed to turn your entire life around in the span of time that others could only dream of achieving. He saw in you what I have only recently understood. You survived a past that many would have broken under- you had nothing and you managed everything- I had everything and barely managed nothing- you only needed one chance when many needed ten."

"I don't get a single word you're saying. If you're trying to make me feel better-"

"Captain-"

"_Jim_. We're off duty!"

"Jim, you accomplished all this _one_ time. You had one chance and you succeeded. You have never failed- you were able to succeed with the first shot. You are not a failure like me."

Jim held back his tongue and stared Spock down. Immaculate, proper, the image of finishing first was his Vulcan XO. But suddenly Jim _saw_ him, saw the man behind the stoic mask-

He saw the boy staring into the faces of disappointed adults, saw Sarek's judging gaze, a gaze that Jim had once been all too familiar with. He saw Spock, bitter, angry, much like Jim had been, nursing bruised knuckles, holding back tears after another fight lost, never even considering the option of winning. He saw the results of the tests, of Spock in the back of the classroom, one of those kids who could never make it to the top. He saw him trying to smile for his mother, stopping at the sight of his father, trying to please one but failing both, living in a loop of regret.

He saw him staying up until the sun rose, buried in books and PADDs, meditating between headaches, having to do more because he knew he was less, pushing through it all until he did succeed, until all the failures were covered by validation.

Jim didn't believe in no-win scenarios. Spock didn't believe in no-lose scenarios.

"No," he spat out, "no, damn it- you are no screw-up. Screw your speech. You've got no right to call yourself the failure if you pulled through that shit!"

"Jim, I do not consider myself a perpetual failure. I was merely drawing an example of your definition. You may not have succeeded one time, but it is only one failing in the face of an indefinite amount of success- that in itself defies logic."

"No, it means I'm lucky- shit, all that stuff you said, all it means is that I didn't work my ass off like everyone else. I'm just a lucky asshole. The other me, he was different, you know? He deserved everything he got- he was more than just a fuck-up. I am _nothing_ compared to him or anyone else."

_Never have been._

"He was also older, more experienced, and raised by his father. In addition, you saw him through the lens of my counterpart. If we are in any way similar to our counterparts, I can attest that if he were to view you through my lens, the result would not be very different. At this point, there is no other man I would rather address as captain."

Spock shut his mouth at last and the words looped in Jim's mind. The meaning took a minute to sink in. He opened his mouth but said nothing; what was he supposed to do in the face of this much affirmation? From _Spock_?

He wanted to say he didn't deserve it- he still didn't think he deserved it. But maybe he wasn't that fucked up. Damn Vulcan- he was right. Maybe Jim was lucky, or maybe he really was brilliant. Maybe he did need to be captain. Suddenly he couldn't stand the thought of handing his crew to anyone else. How could he be positive some other guy wouldn't take advantage of them? Wouldn't get anyone killed? Wouldn't understand them? Wouldn't-

He needed to be the captain. And if someone, someone who had to go through so much shit not to fuck up and still see the glass half empty all the damn time, if someone like Spock, could go through all that and come out looking perfect, someone like that, could say that Jim wasn't a fucking screw-up, then hell, maybe he _wasn't_.

"Maybe it's time I learned to take more than one shot, huh?"

"Indeed."

If they really did think he was the best thing out there, he wasn't going to let them down. Maybe if they all stuck together,_ they_ could be the best thing out there. He'd never given up before. He wasn't going to start now.

"Fuck, I'm starving."

Jim stood up and stretched. He blinked, feeling a million times lighter, and cracked a solid grin. It was a heavy smile but it was a smile, one that he _felt_.

"Let's grab a bite or something."

"All right."

Spock left his seat, a ghost of smile hidden on his face, but Jim could tell. He always could.

"So, two screw-ups on their way to making history, am I right?"

"Affirmative."

Jim nudged him in the shoulder and they walked on, the blue sky looking like it somehow covered the whole universe.

* * *

**Thanks for reading and reviews are always welcome! **

**The thing is... I didn't like Nu!Kirk. The movies made it look like he breezed through everything with luck/other people's help (it was kind of Sue-ish), but then I realized that's the script's fault, not the character's. I've been warming up to him more now, thinking it through. Kirk got knocked around a lot in STID and in the end, it was actually Spock who beat Khan. Plus Sherlock, I mean Khan, did a lot of damage that I can't see Kirk, TOS or reboot, not care about. Long story short: he messed up and he feels bad about it. But TOS Kirk messed up a lot too so this oneshot was a bit of character study on a humbler nu!Kirk.**

**(I don't think nu!Kirk went to Tarsus- I'll wait for canon evidence- but if he did, it fits with this oneshot because he made it out alive and saved a bunch of other kids to boot)**

**Headcanon-wise, I don't think Spock would have been this "imperfect," but I _can_ see it happen- he's certainly a lot more bitter and emotional than Prime. So like Nu!Kirk, Nu!Spock probably had a tougher time getting it together too.**


End file.
